


Convincing

by tuesday



Category: Venom (Movie 2018)
Genre: Bondage, Consentacles, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, M/M, Missing Scene, Multiple Orgasms, Other, POV Venom Symbiote (Marvel), Sexually Transmitted Feelings, Sounding, Tentacles, Xeno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-11 02:32:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16467008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tuesday/pseuds/tuesday
Summary: "Convince me.""Convince you?""Yes.  Convince me that it's worth it, that I shouldn't try to throw myself back in the bay right now instead of letting you take my body and fuck off into space.""I have control." Pointedly, Venom flexes their left hand, wraps it around their shared throat.  Eddie's reaction to that is ... intriguing."Now, yeah," Eddie says, but his face is red.  His eyes fix on a distant star. "But I promise, I'm a fast learner and I can be a real pain in the ass when I put my mind to it."





	Convincing

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Polski available: [Przekonaj mnie](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16517543) by [tehanu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tehanu/pseuds/tehanu)



> Have you ever wondered how we got from "You're my ride" to "I will burn down everything if anything happens to you"? This is one possible explanation and missing scene. 
> 
> Happy Halloween a little early! Have some monster-fucking to celebrate.
> 
> Also, putting this here, where it will hopefully get some more relevant eyes than on my gen/pre-V/E fic: While I have at least nine more fic ideas (at varying levels of "I think this will pan out"), if there are any tropes or very, very general fic ideas you'd like to see me tackle for Eddie/Venom (think "kid fic" or "more soulmate AUs" over a full outline), there is a non-zero chance I might write it if you leave it in the comments.

"Convince me."

"Convince you?"

"Yes. Convince me that it's worth it, that I shouldn't try to throw myself back in the Bay right now instead of letting you take my body and fuck off into space."

"I have control." Pointedly, Venom flexes their left hand, wraps it around their shared throat. Eddie's reaction to that is ... intriguing.

"Now, yeah," Eddie says, but his face is red. His eyes fix on a distant star. "But I promise, I'm a fast learner and I can be a real pain in the ass when I put my mind to it."

Eddie's memories, distant and secondhand, bear that up, hold it to be true even when he's not actually trying.

"You're lonely," Venom says.

"Yeah, which makes me no different from 90% of the rest of humanity. Try something else."

"I can fix that. You will never be alone again."

"It's not that kind of lonely."

Venom knows. He's spent most of the last day rifling through Eddie's memories, examining and learning every last facet of his current host.

"It is. I promise," Venom encircles Eddie's wrists with two loops of his more liquid form, forms extra hands to frame Eddie's waist, "I can fix it."

Eddie's legs inch apart, and from his expression it's obvious the response is automatic. Venom rumbles in the back of his throat, pleased, and forms the weight of his own waist, his own torso, to press in, to fill in all that empty space. Eddie's voice goes a little shrill as he says, "You, uh, you can, huh?"

"I can," Venom confirms. "I will."

"What if I don't want you to?" Eddie does not sound sure of himself. The way he cants his hips gives lie to the necessity of the question.

"You do." And yet—Venom withdraws all at once, fully contained once more under Eddie's skin. Eddie slumps against the strut of the buoy, legs spread wide. Speaking directly into Eddie's mind once more, knowing exactly which memories and mental associations he's about to trigger, he says, "But I suppose I could always try an oral argument."

"That, uh—" Eddie swallows hard. He presses a palm to the cold metal beneath them as if to ground himself. Venom waits him out. He will have all of Eddie, and all it requires is patience. Almost under his breath, Eddie says, "Fuck it." Louder, "Yeah, okay. Convince me." As if sensing the direction of Venom's thoughts, the contrary humor bubbling beneath their skin, Eddie clarifies without quite clarifying at all, like he's afraid by naming it, he's giving Venom more control. (Little does he realize he already has.) "The—the not talking."

Venom pushes partially out again, presses Eddie to the floor with claw-tipped hands even as he pulls down with dozens of thin, strong tendrils. He is considerate. He pools a blanket of himself between Eddie and the leeching cold, protects him from the sharp edges of paint flaking in the damp ocean air. Eddie lets out a startled huff and utterly fails to resist. Venom reforms eyes, teeth, a tongue, all the important features that make a face. Eddie stares at Venom's mouth, and it's not fear that's darkening his eyes right now.

Venom has seen Eddie's memories. He knows Eddie's general thoughts, the shape of his mind. Kissing is a new concept—it feels perverse to use his mouth for anything but food—but Venom leans forward and slides his tongue between Eddie's parted lips. The whimper it evokes is almost as gratifying as the taste of the inside of Eddie's mouth. Kissing _is_ perverse, and Venom loves it. Eddie sucks a little, but mostly he lies back and takes it.

Eddie holds up a hand, and Venom obligingly forms a shoulder for Eddie to clutch. He forms more tendrils to snake under Eddie's hoodie to push and pinch at his nipples. Eddie gives a full body shudder when Venom gives an experimental twist. With his free hand, Eddie fumbles open his pants.

Most of Eddie's memories and experiences point toward certain acts being worked up to, taking time to occur if they happen at all. Venom has waited long enough. He has waited his whole life to find an Other to complete him. And Eddie? Eddie is very lonely. He's waited long enough, too.

Venom fills Eddie's ass at the same time as he encompasses his dick in a tight, writhing, formless mass. Eddie shouts, incoherent and choked, mouth engaged with Venom's tongue. Venom's tongue is busy, but he speaks directly into Eddie's mind.

"You are empty, Eddie, so empty, yearning to be filled." Eddie gives a sound like a sob as Venom finds and mercilessly stimulates his prostate. "I can fill you."

Eddie's squirming, but it's not to get away. It's like he can't decide which point of friction to focus on, which direction to lean into. Venom moves with him, won't let him decide the pace of it. The point of this is not Eddie participating, but him learning to surrender to Venom's control.

"You like this, don't you, Eddie? You _love_ this. You were made for it." Venom loosens his grip and starts a steady stroking motion along Eddie's dick, firm enough to feel, light enough to tease. "Made for _me_."

When Eddie gives an aborted thrust up, Venom stops. When Eddie holds still, Venom starts again. Eddie's being good, so good, and Venom rewards Eddie with a little tendril of himself into the slit of his dick, following the trail of that delicious pre-come leaking all over them both. Eddie thrashes his head, and Venom holds him down from the inside, keeps him from hurting himself as Venom cautiously, delicately explores a little deeper still.

"You are so sweet like this," Venom says, forming tendrils like teeth to nip at Eddie's ear. "It is a wonder no one has kept you this way, full and happy, tender and sweet. We could hold you here forever, just you and the ocean and me. Lick you open with every tide coming in and fill you up with every tide going out. We could keep you, Eddie." He pulses, inside and out, lets Eddie feel everywhere Venom is touching him, every place that Venom resides. "Let us keep you, Eddie."

Venom backs off in this one way even as the rest of him presses inexorably, mercilessly in: he withdraws his tongue so Eddie has the chance to voice the counterpoint it feels like he desperately wants to give. When Eddie does, it is charmingly pathetic. Eddie's voice is slurred as he says, "Fuck you."

"No, Eddie," Venom croons, sliding a little more of himself into the slit of Eddie's dick, "fuck _you_."

Eddie lets out a hysterical little giggle and flops his head violently backward, but Venom is there to cushion the blow. Eddie closes his eyes. His blush encompasses his face, extends down his neck where it disappears beneath his clothes and Venom can feel the heat of it along the top of his chest.

"Yeah, sure." Eddie's voice is rough, raw with feeling. "Fuck me."

Venom does, slow, sliding movements, constant and inexorable as the tide. He feels as it builds in Eddie and builds and builds—as it crests, breaks. Eddie whimpers and moans and makes desperate little noises throughout, sobbing his way through his orgasm and its aftermath.

"Was that," Venom asks, pulling back in everything but the face, smug as he revels in the endorphins flooding Eddie's body, "sufficiently convincing?"

"I don't know," Eddie's voice is dazed when finally he comes back to himself enough to speak, and a smile stretches wide across his face, "I think I might need to hear a few more arguments—"

Eager for the excuse, Venom slips one thick tendril out of Eddie's thigh and presses it in, filling Eddie's ass and pushing, pulsing against his prostate again.

The sound Eddie makes is not intelligible as he jerks, then twitches. "I, uh, I was kidding, but—"

"But?" Venom coaxes.

"Shit." Eddie spreads his legs again, clenches and bears down. "You, uh, you can keep doing that."

Eddie is oversensitive, flinching and shuddering at the renewed stimulation, but strangely, astonishingly, rocking into it. He is a man with no sense of self-preservation. Venom should keep him still. This is blatant backsliding.

Venom cedes a little more control, lets Eddie fuck himself until his thighs burn, until he's in danger of tipping over with every down-stroke. Eddie puts his hands on Venom's face where a human would have cheekbones. His fingers brush the sensitive flesh exposed near Venom's teeth. He smiles as he admits, "You're right."

Yesss. Venom _is_ right. ... What is Venom right about?

"I, _oh_." Eddie's fingers twitch, a distracting sensation. Venom wants to put them in his mouth, to swallow them down and keep them safe deep inside. "I do like it. I love it—maybe I'm made for it, even." Eddie kisses Venom's teeth and slips the very tips of his fingers into Venom's mouth. "But if I am, then so are you."

Every bit of Venom's control goes into not biting off Eddie's fingers. Eddie uses the opportunity to tip himself over the edge again. Watching Eddie's face screwed up with pleasure, his expression shameless and open, the tears in his eyes, Venom thinks—

Venom thinks—

It does not matter what Venom thinks. Eddie is human, host, prey. They will take the rocket, reunite with a host of others hungry and waiting on a rock of their own, and then—Venom hopes that Eddie survives. If not, Venom hopes that he gets to keep these fingers, the bones of these hands pressed gentle and unafraid to Venom's face. He would like the reminder of this man, this moment, this interlude in the middle of the bay.

"Yeah, okay," Eddie says. He's smiling, small and real. "You've convinced me. Let me run one errand real quick, then we'll find you your rocket."

(Venom thinks, _I could keep him. I want to keep him_.)

It is a small concession. It won't take long. The others are waiting, but they can wait longer yet. Venom tucks Eddie inside himself, close and safe, and slides into the water. The stars gleam murky and distant above as they head swiftly for shore.


End file.
